MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
THE SEASONS. 
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN. 
Hay and corn mid buds and flowers, 
Snow and ice and fruit and wine,— 
Suns and Seasons, sleets and showers, 
Bring, in turn, these gifts divine. 
Spring blows, Summer glows, 
Autumn reaps, Winter keeps, 
Spring prepares, Summer provides, 
Autumn hoards, and Winter hides. 
Come, then, friends, their praises sound : 
Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring, 
A s they run their yearly round, 
Each in turn with gladness sing I 
Time drops blessings as he flies— 
Time makes ripe and Time makes wise. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
THE VALLEY OF MEMORY. 
BY MISS ELIZA WOODWORTH. 
Away in the shadowy land of tho Past, 
sleeping- in tho quiet, uncertain light of Re¬ 
membrance, is a valley, wherein is hidden a 
templo, solemn in its gloomy majesty, yet 
beautiful in tho silent glory, resting liko tho 
farewell smilo of fading Lovo upon lofty bat¬ 
tlement, and glimmering through dusky 
aislo. And thero, too, is a record, kept by 
a stern and faithful minister. 
Tho pathway of lifo is shorn of its green¬ 
ness , and the eyes that aro tracing tho lab- 
rynths arc dim with gathering tears. Black 
and torriblo tho grim clouds are darkening 
the quaking heavens; lovely in its peaceful 
slumbers—woful in its fading beauty—stern 
and awful in its rising wrath. Muttering 
voices of anger aro stirring tho storm pall, 
wrapping the shuddoring bosom of the skies, 
and coarse and heavy the loud clarion of 
tho maddened tempest falls upon tho dcso- 
lato heart. Fearful of the Future, forget¬ 
ful of tho Present, tho weary eyo searches 
for the light of tho Past. O ! then, bright 
to “ the pure in heart,” is tho valley—beau¬ 
tiful tho templo — cheering tho spotless 
pages, kept by tho hand of Memory, and 
filled with tho records of Innocence. Low 
tones of melody aro going up from the green 
earth to tho heavens bonding above it; tho 
wild shriek of tho battling thunder is heard 
afar off, —and tho black shroud of tho tem¬ 
pest is seen as a vision ; while dreams, bright 
as the sun—kissed rain-drops dancing on tho 
sparkling bow of Omnipotence,—visit tho 
heart and gladden the misty dimness of tho 
little valley, with a light of beauty and 
heaven-born glory. 
“ Lord, keep my memory green !” Lot 
not tho sunny path of childhood bo lost in 
tho distance—let not tho star of Hope, shod- 
ding light on tho bosom of youth, fade amid 
tho blackness of corning years ! 
Away, in that darkened valloy, amid tho 
hidden covert of tho whispering forest, 
whoro tho yew and tho cypress twine a death 
gloom, blacker than tho garments of the 
daughtor of sleep, thero rolls a sluggish 
river, reeking with tho pestilential breath 
of its poisonous waters. Tho “man of sin,” 
turns back to look for tho treasures of a 
distant, tho’ still remembered day. But 
heavy is tho midnight hovering over tho 
blood-stainod ruins of tho templo of inno¬ 
cence—fearful and forbidding are tho torn 
pages of memory, as tho stern rocorder 
points with bony finger to tho annals of 
hellish crime, and tells with tho hollow voice 
of unforgetting romorso, of tho ruined and 
tho lost! 
Alas ! for tho greenness of childhood, 
withered by tho storm-broath of sorrow, and 
tho budding hopes of youth, crushed in tho 
gripe of scorn ! But tho spirit, tho’ blight¬ 
ed in its aspirations, may yet remain pure 
and unsullied. And tho burning lamp of 
heaven, lost for an hour in tho blackness of 
tho howling tempost, whoso giant form soon 
sinks to tho caverns of night, while its voice 
dies away in tho lonely darkness of its far- 
off homo, shall shino with a clearer glory 
amid tho storm-scattered clouds. Wo ! wo! 
unto him of tho unclean hands, and tho self- 
polluted heart! In vain may ho ask for tho 
waters of Lethe, or sigh for tho dreamloss 
tido of Oblivion. Forgotfulnoss visits not 
tho chambers of darknoss—Oblivian shall 
not wash away tho grim foot-prints of Guilt. 
Not a voice of friendly choor from tho 
solemn land of tho Future !—not a breath 
of melody to break tho soundless gloom of 
tho Prosent! “Wretched man that thou 
art!”—go thou to tho dreary Past. Walk 
through tho once bright valloy—gaze on tho 
fallen pillar—look on tho desolated shrino 
of affection, and moral purity—bring up 
from tho slimy depths of that sullen river, 
tho wrecks floating within it! Dark and 
sad is tho face of Memory—chill and awful 
her warning voice ! 
Yet, tkou, 0 ! youth ! with tho eyo of love, 
and tho voico of truth, tako hood lest thou 
causo tho beautiful tomplo of virtuo to 
moulder by tho slow, decaying hand of 
wrong and iniquity, or to fall beneath tho 
tread of tho tempest, shattered and ruined 
forover. What others have been, wo, too, 
may become. Father in Heaven! shield 
us in tho trying hour, and break tho giant 
spell of temptation and ovil! 
Albion, N. Y., 1853. 
HOW TO LIVE LONG. 
It is tho easiest thing in tho world, por- 
haps. to secure a long life, provided thero is 
a moderately good constitution to start with, 
and provided also no accident intervenes. 
Yot how few thero aro who seem to bo 
aware of this ! If persons are to bo judged 
by their conduct, indeed, we might conclude 
that nothing could he dono to prolong life, 
but that it depended entiroly on chance 
whother adult years were attained—whether 
death catno at forty, or whether existence 
was prolonged to tho scriptural “ three 
score years and ten.” 
The laws of life, however, aro as immuta¬ 
ble and regular as thoso of astronomy.— 
Whoever lives according to thoso laws may 
reasonably calculate on a good old ago.— 
Whoever systematically violates them may 
as certainly expect to shorten his existence. 
Tho human body is, in truth, but a machine; 
and, like all other machines, it may bo worn 
out boforo its time by abuso and noglcct.— 
Excesses on tho one hand, or want of exer¬ 
cise on tho other, will tear it prematurely 
to pieces, or allow it to rust away. Too lit¬ 
tle work, or too much, will alike prove fatal 
to a prolonged existence. 
Americans violate the law of life princi¬ 
pally through their excesses. In early 
manhood excess in convival enjoyment and 
even in worse kinds of dissipating, is unfor¬ 
tunately too common. But excess is far 
from ceasing even with mature manhood. 
With energetic persons, the dosiro to achiovo 
a fortuno has, at this period of life, general¬ 
ly succeeded to tho pleasure-seeking phase 
of earlier years. Tho man, still radically 
unchanged, pursues business with as much 
avidity as ever ho sought recreation. Early 
and late ho is at his work, overtasking his 
mind, and exhausting his body by unduo la¬ 
bor. At first, indeed, ho does not feel tho 
effects of his indiscretion. Morning finds 
him refreshed by the reposo of tho night; 
he seems to himself as vigorous as ever; and 
he roturns to his pursuits with tho same 
eagerness, the samo tenacity, the same folly 
as before. But nature at last avenges her¬ 
self. By middle ago ho is already an old 
man. Or, perhaps, ho suddenly breaks 
down, even at an earlier period, becoming a 
confirmed valetudinarian, the victim of dys¬ 
pepsia, rheumatism, gout, nervous disor¬ 
ders, or possibly a complication of all four. 
If mon would attain to tho allotted term 
of life, they must shun excess in work, there¬ 
fore. as woll as in pleasure. To kill ono’s 
self by a greedy hasto after riches, is as 
much a moral suicide as to destroy one’s 
lifo by wine, by tobacco, by dining out, by 
late hours. It is not sufficient, however, to 
avoid excess merely, in order to arrive at 
“ threo score and ten.” Judicious exorcise 
must bo minglod with habits of moderate 
living. Personal cleanliness must be pre¬ 
served by bathing, by frequent changes of 
linen, and by friction of tho skin to induce 
a hoalthy stato of that membrano. Many 
an excellent clergyman has shortened his 
days, involuntarily, by remaining in his stu¬ 
dy, when ho should have been sawing wood 
in tho cellar, walking in tho fresh air, or 
galloping over breezy hills. Many an in¬ 
dividual, in both sexes, has brought on dis¬ 
ease by neglecting to keep tho pores of the 
body proporly oponod. Tho fashionablo 
practico of turning day into night, and night 
into day, is also an enemy to length of years. 
Thoro is no light so beautiful as God’s free 
sunlight. Tho fair, fresh complexions of 
most Quaker girls, and tho comparatively 
faded ones of fashionablo women, is a testi¬ 
mony, present boforo us all, in favor of regu¬ 
lar hours, and against gas-lit ball-rooms"— 
Plenty of light, also, oven in day-time, con¬ 
duces to health. Tho inhabitants of dark 
courts, liko prisoners, wilt and grow wan. 
A long lifo is rarely tho lot of a passion¬ 
ate porson. Indeed, only an iron constitu- 
lion can withstand frequently recurring 
tempests of angor, hate, jealousy, and other 
evil emotions. Literally is su^h an indi¬ 
vidual “ given over to a demon,” to bo 
racked and torn, year after year, till life 
escapes at last beneath tho torture. To bo 
just, modotato and true, is to bo, almost 
certainly, a sexagenarian. Yet indolence, 
oither of body or of mind, much less of both, 
is almost as fatal to a protracted existence 
as excess in pursuit of fortuno, or in the 
chase of pleasure. Nature is never idle, 
and will not allow man to bo so, without 
dwarfing his intellect and shortening his 
days. But as few Americans permit them¬ 
selves to rust out, wo dismiss this part of 
our subject without further comment. 
Who will bo wise, and live long ? Who 
foolish, and dio prematurely ? Either course 
is boforo you, roader !— Ledger. 
ENERGY. 
Energy is everything. How moan a thing 
is a man with little motive power ! All the 
abilities nature has given him lio useless, 
liko a great and mighty machino, ready at 
every point for action, but not a wheel turns 
for want of a starting power. A groat man 
is liko a great machine. Ho has a groat 
power to sot in motion tho various and iin- 
monso projocts which ho has in his hand; 
little motivos can neither start nor stop him; 
they sot in motion tho powers of an ordina- 
ary man and render him a rospoctablo, nay, 
evon beautiful piece of mechanism, but nov- 
or. a magnificent ono. Yot thoro is ono 
thing which renders man supremely abovo 
tho machine. By tho working of his own 
mind he can improve and exalt himself; by 
directing his eyo to what is great and good, 
ho may becomo so. If then, wo can becomo 
what wo wish to bo, what high objects 
should wo aim at, and what resoluto and 
! energetic ofiorts should wo bo ever making 
I to attain them ? 
A QUAKERESS 
IN SEARCH OF A HUSBAND. 
In a work recently published in England, 
entitled “ Quakerism, or the story of my 
Life” the following amusing anecdote is re¬ 
lated : 
I was one evening, at a large tea party, 
introduced to a very beautiful young bride. 
She had a largo figuro, well, and most grace¬ 
fully formed ; the roseato hue of her cheek, 
and the soft brilliancy of her downcast eyes, 
were only equalled in beauty by tho ex- 
quisitively fair neck, and the rich dark 
brown hair, banded in tho smoothest Ma¬ 
donna stylo on her lofty brow. Her dress 
was of tho richest dove-colored satin ; and 
her quaker cap, and nock handkerchief fol¬ 
ded in neat plaits across her bosom, were of 
India’s most costly muslin. The handker¬ 
chief was attached to tho dress by a gold 
pin, with a pearl head ; and tho belt of her 
dress was fastened in front by two moro 
gold pins, each with a diamond head. Tho 
bridegroom was a very small, thin, awkward, 
ill-made man ; his face—from which every 
morsel of whisker had been shaved oil'—was 
white, flat and meaningless ; and his dress, 
though quito new, was badly made, and bad¬ 
ly put on ; it was, however a strictly Quaker 
costume. In tho courso of tho evening I 
said to tho lady who had introduced me.— 
“ How did that mean looking little man ever 
manage to get such a very lovely bride ?”— 
She smiled and answered, “ Strange as it 
may seem. I assuro thoo it was Rachel who 
courted him. not ho her. I will tell thee 
the story. About four years ago, Rachel’s 
sistor was married, and she was somewhat 
annoyed, that she, tho eldest and so much 
tho handsomer, should have been passed by; 
so she resolved to provide herself w(th a 
husband ; and thou knowest when a woman 
makes up her mind to do a thing, sho tri¬ 
umphs over every obstacle. Rachel’s first 
step was to draw out a list of tho names of 
eligible young men ; opposite to each name 
she placed tho amount of his annual income, 
as correctly as she could ascertain it. The 
most wealthy was placed at tho head of the 
list, and so on in regular gradation. Sho 
had twelve namos down. 
They lived in all parts of England; one 
in London, ono in York, one in Bristol, and 
so on. Sylvanus Otway was at tho head of 
tho list. Sho had never seen him, and he 
lived near Norwich. Ho was down for 
seven thousand a year. Rachel seriously 
informed her father and mother that sho 
had ‘a concern’ to attend tho Norwich 
Quarterly Mooting. They had no acquaint¬ 
ances they cared for there, and were dis¬ 
inclined to take so long a journey; but 
Rachel became so silent and sad, and so of¬ 
ten told them sho was burdened with the 
weight of her concern to go, that they at 
length yioldod to hor wishes; and father 
and mother, Rachel and her sister Susanna, 
and ono of tho brothers, all went to Nor¬ 
wich. As the fathor and mother were ac¬ 
knowledged ministers, of courso they were 
taken much notice of, and invited to all tho 
Friends’ houses; amongst others, to Friend 
Otway’s, and Rachel soon had the pleasure 
of being introduced to Sylvanus. She was 
delighted to find him a fine, handsome, in¬ 
telligent looking young man, and to per- 
coivo that ho was decidedly facinatcd with 
his new acquaintances; and when at part¬ 
ing, ho whispered to her sister, loud enough 
for Rachel to hear, “ I hopo soon to bo in 
your city; and to have tho pleasure of call¬ 
ing at your house,” her cheek flushed with 
triumph, and heart palpitated with joy at tho 
success of her scheme. Sylvanus soon fol¬ 
lowed them, as ho had promised, and pro¬ 
posed for Susanna. Ho was promptly ac¬ 
cepted ; and they wero married as spoedily 
as tho rules of our Society would permit.— 
Rachol was exceedingly vexed and disap¬ 
pointed ; but she is not a person to bo dis¬ 
comfited by one failure, so sho resolved to 
try again, but sho has never been friendly 
with Susanna sinco. Tho next on her list 
was Josiah Gumblo, of York, and his income 
was six thousand. Again sho informed her 
father, that it was required of her to attend 
tho York Quarterly Meeting, and sho added, 
“ it had borne on her mind that tho ministry 
of her beloved father, at that solemn as¬ 
sembly, would bo blessed to some waiting 
minds.” Thero is nothing pleases our min¬ 
isters moro than flattery of their preaching 
gifts. Rachel is an adopt at it. 
I havo often found it difficult to keep my 
features in sober decorum when I have 
heard her speaking of the inward peace she 
had felt from tho acceptable service of her 
much valued Friends. And then sho pres¬ 
ses tho hand of tho minister she is flatter¬ 
ing, with so much feeling, as sho says ; but 
thoy liko it, and Rachel has her own onds 
in view. Sho went to York, and soon ob¬ 
tained tho desired introduction to Josiah 
Gumblo ; ho, too, was young, and passably 
well looking; Rachel contrived to bo very 
much in his company; but sho saw clearly 
that ho could not bo caught. She told me 
sho had never mot any man who was s^.« 
coldly insensible to beauty, and so stupidly* 
indifforont to flattery. However, Rachel 
was not disheartened; for it soon came out 
that Josiah was tho victim of an unrighteous 
attachment to tho daughtor of a clergyman ; 
for love of whom he deserted our Israel, and 
is now—alas ! that it should bo so—with his 
six thousand a year, gone over to the camp 
of the alien. Tho third on Rachel’s list was 
John Jones, of London, hor bridegroom 
now; ho is worth about two thousand a year; 
and, as thou must seo, no beauty. YVhen 
Rachol first saw him, sho was half inclined 
to leavo him for somebody else; but tho 
next on her list is only six hundred a year. 
Tho sacrifice was too great, and besides 
James Lowis might bo as moan looking, so 
sho resolved on the conquest of John Jones. 
It was vory easily accomplished, ho made 
no resistance, at onco became the worship¬ 
per of hor beauty; and now that thoy are 
married, I think it will bo her own fault if 
thoy aro not happy. Iio is not vory wise. 
but ho is good humored and good-natured.” 
“ How didst thou becomo acquainted with 
this amusing story ?” said I. “ Is it not a 
breach of confidence to tell it ?” “ No, in¬ 
deed,” sho replied : “ thero wero moro than 
a dozen of us in tho room whon sho told it 
herself, and showed us tho list; sho said sho 
did not want it now so she gavo it to Mar¬ 
tha Elton, and bade her give a copy of it to 
any of tho girls who would like to try tho 
same plan of gotting settled in life.” 
Jfk % Jafries. 
THE PHYSICIANS OATH. 
The following “ oath of tho physician” is 
one of tho most remarkable relics of anti¬ 
quity. It is ascribed to Hippocrates, but it 
is behoved to bo of still greater antiquity. 
It is, howover, certain that it was in voguo 
in his time, now more than two thousand 
years ago. It is alluded to in tho writings 
of Plato, Soranus, Joromo and others. It 
may bo well to remark by way of prelimi¬ 
nary, that Appollo, tho son of Jupiter, was 
tho god of medicine. Esculapius was tho 
son of Appollo. Ilygoia (health) and Pa¬ 
nacea (universal remedy) wero Esculapius’s 
daughters. In all oaths of thoso days, it 
was customary to invoko the gods and god¬ 
desses : 
The Oath. —“I swear by Apollo, the 
Physician, by Esculapins, by Hygeia and 
Panacea, that I will fulfil, faithfully, to the 
extent of my power and ability, this oath, 
and this written engagement; that I will 
consider him who taught me this act in the 
light of a father; that I will watch over his 
interests, provide liberally for his wants, 
consider his children as my own brothors, 
and that I will instruct them in this profes¬ 
sion, if such bo their wish, without salary or 
compensation; that I wiil communicate to 
them, to my own children, and to adepts in 
this science, tho common precepts of our 
profession and its secret requirements, but 
will conceal them from all others. Accord¬ 
ing to the best of my knowledgo I will make 
uso of the rulo3 of dietetics for tho comfort 
and relief of my patients. I will remove 
from them everything that could be injuri¬ 
ous to them—and all kinds of witchcraft. 
I will never administer a deadly poison to 
any one, whoover he inay be, or however 
earnestly I may bo solicited, nor will I pre¬ 
pare it for another to administer. I will 
never cause abortion. I will preserve my 
life pure and holy as my art. I will never 
remove calculi, but will direct such patients 
to thoso who make this their business. In 
every house in which I may enter it shall 
bo only for tho relief of the sick, preserving 
myself free from all voluntary iniquity; 
abstaining from all kinds of debauchery; 
forbidding myself all improprieties, whether 
with man or woman, slave or free. Any¬ 
thing which I may see or hear in the ex¬ 
ercise of my profession, that ought not to 
bo divulged, shall, by mo, be regarded as an 
inviolable secret. 
“If I faithfully fulfil tho conditions of 
my oath, may my life pass happily away: 
may I gather tho fruits of my labors, and 
live, honored by all, to tho latest posterity. 
But if I fail therein, and perjure myself, let 
tho contrary of all this happen.” 
GYPSIES IN THE UNITED STATES. 
It has boen generally supposed that gyp¬ 
sies wero unknown in tho United States un¬ 
til their recent advent into Now Jersey and 
Virginia; but a correspondent of tho Phila¬ 
delphia Gazette, at Bangor, writes that they 
have been known in Now Hampshire, Maine 
and Massachusetts for nearly one hundred 
years. According to tradition, thoy wero 
brought from Portsmouth, N. H., by a gen¬ 
tleman who endeavored to train them as 
household servants. Ho failed in tho at¬ 
tempt and his gypsies afterwards betook 
themselves to tho barren and inhospitable 
plains in tho now town of Barrington, some 
twenty miles north-west from Portsmouth, 
whero thoy and their descendants havo re¬ 
sided in hovels, issuing forth from time to 
timo among tho people of New Hampshire, 
and tho borders of Massachusetts and Maine, 
disposing of baskets and other articles of 
manufacture, telling fortunes, &c., &c.— 
Thoy are to day but little advanced in point 
of civilization and the decencies of life, of 
those who have within a year or two, emi¬ 
grated to Maryland, New Jersey, &e., 
though thoir blood is less unmixed with that 
of tho Yankees. All efforts to reclaim them 
from their wandering life havo proved fu¬ 
tile; hence they aro permitted to follow the 
bent of their inclinations without let or hin¬ 
drance, unless thoy commit some heinous 
offence. 
A COURTSHIP IN PUNS. 
A certain Air. Par being smitten with tho 
charms of a certain Miss Ann Marr, a pro¬ 
vincial belle, whom he met at Harrowgate, 
was oxceediugly perplexod to contrive how 
ho should open his heart to hor. At length 
he met her, and it was for tho last timo that 
^season, at a public breakfast; and in tho 
Mlread of losing hor forever, ho resolved, 
even thoro, to make a despei’ate effort to 
pop the question. Fortuno favored tho at¬ 
tempt. It happenod that opposite tho gen¬ 
tleman thero was a plate of Parmesan cheese, 
and near tho lady stood a crystal dish of 
marmalade. “ Will you do mo tho honor 
to accopt of a little Par, Miss Ann ?” said 
the lover, with a look full of meaning, and 
moving his hand toward tho checso. “ Toll 
mo first,” replied tho damsel, with admira¬ 
ble readinoss, lifting, at tho same timo, the 
top of the crystal, “whother or not you are 
fond of Marr, my lad ?” “ Abovo all things 
in existence!” exclaimed tho enraptured 
youth. Tho offers were mutually accepted 
and understood as pledges of porsonal at¬ 
tachment by tho parties, although nobody 
elso comprehended tho oquivoquo, or dis¬ 
covered anything in the transaction but 
common civility. Tho treaty thus opened 
was soon ratified, and Miss Ann Marr was 
invested with title of Mrs. Par. 
I WAIT FOR THEE! 
The hearth is swept—the fire is bright, 
The kettle sings for tea; 
The cloth is spread—the lamp is light, 
The white cakes smoke in napkins white, 
And now I wait for thee. 
Come, come, love, thy task is done, 
The clock ticks listeningly, 
The blinds are shut, the curtain down, 
The warm chair to the fireside drawn, 
The boy is on my knee. 
Come home, love, come; his deep fond eye 
Looks round him wistfully, 
And where the whispering winds go by, 
As if thy welcome step were nigh, 
He crows exultingly. 
In vain—he finds the welcome vain, 
And turns his glance on mine 
So earnestly, that yet again 
His form unto my heart I strain. 
That glance is so like thine. 
Thy task is done—we miss thee here; 
Where’er thy footsteps roam, 
No heart will speed such kindly cheer, 
No beating heart, no listening ear, 
Like those who wait thee home. 
Ah, now along the crisp walk, fast, 
That well known step dotli come ; 
The bolt is drawn, the gate is past, 
The babe is wild with joy at last— 
A thousand welcomes home.' 
MATERNAL INFLUENCE. 
IIow many of the great and distinguished 
mon attribute, and truly too, tho eminence 
to which thoy havo attained, to tho simple 
teaching of childhood,—to tho impressions 
mado on their youthful minds by a kind 
and affectionate mother. The following 
beautiful tribute to a revered and beloved 
parent, from tho richly gifted pen of La- 
mertine, is well worthy attention, and its 
sentiments impressed upon tho mind will 
elevate its standard of thought and refine 
tho feelings of tho heart : 
My mother had received from hers, on her 
death bed, a beautiful Biblo of Hoyaumont, 
in which sho taught mo to read when I was 
a little child. Ihis biblo had engravings of 
sacied subjects on all its pages. Hero was 
Sarah, here were Tobias and his Angel, here 
was Joseph, or Samuel; here especially wore 
thoso beautiful patriarchal scenes whoro tho 
solemn and primitive naturo of tho East 
mingled with all tho acts of tho simple and 
admirable lito of thoso early men. 
When I had recited my lesson well and 
read almost without mistake half of a pago 
of Sacrod History, my mother showod the 
engraving, and, holding tho opened book on 
her knees, permitted me to view it while she 
explained it to mo as a recompense. She 
was endowed by naturo with a pious and 
tender spirit, and with an imagination the 
most sensible and brilliant; her beautiful 
and noblo figuro, reflected in her radiant 
countenance, all which glowed in her heart, 
all which characterized hor thought; and 
the sound, clear, affectionate, solemn and 
passionate of her voico added to all she said 
an accent of force, of charm, and of lovo 
which still resounds at this moment in my 
ear, alas ! after six years of silenco. Tho 
sight of thoso engravings, tho explications, 
and poetical comments of my mother, havo 
inspired me from tho most tender infancy 
with biblical tastes and inclinations. From 
a lovo of the things to a desiro of seeing 
tho places where thoso things happened, 
was only a step. I eagerly desired there¬ 
fore, from tho ago of eight, to visit thoso 
mountains whero God decended—those des¬ 
erts whero tho angels came and pointed out 
to Hagar tho hidden fountain whence sho 
might revive her poor infant, deserted and 
dying of thirst; those rivers which flow out 
from tho terrestrial Faradise ; that heaven 
where the angels descended and ascended 
tho ladder of Jacob. 
Ibis desire had never been diminished. 
I had always thought from that time upon 
a tour to tho East, as a great act of my lifo. 
I continually constructedi in my thought a 
vast and religious epic poem, of which theso 
beautiful places were tho principal scone; it 
also appeared to mo that tho doubts and 
religious perplexities would here find a so¬ 
lution and harmony. Then I could draw 
from hor colors for my poem,—for lifo. to 
my mind, was always a grand poem, as to 
my heart it was of lovo. God, Lovo, and 
Poesy are the only threo words I wish en¬ 
graved on my tomb-stone if I evor morit 
one. 
Female Heart. —Tho female hoart is a 
singular organ. At a lecture, an evening or 
two sinco, Dr. Holmes said ho was not ono 
of thoso who believed in the equality of tho 
sexes. Iio thought there aro many things 
a woman can do a thousand fold bettor than 
a man. She understands her own sex as a 
man can novor do. I doubt, said he, wheth¬ 
er, in the most perfect union that ever ex¬ 
isted botween the heart of a man and a wo¬ 
man, thoro was not a spare chamber in the 
female heart to tako in another female 
lodger. Thus constituted.woman was high¬ 
er, according to tho heraldry of naturo, a 
most wonderful and complex croaturo. 
A Paragraph from Goethe.— Goethe 
has written few passages more beautiful 
than tho following: 
“ The year is going away like tho sound 
of bells. The winds pass over the stubble, 
and find nothing to move, only tho red ber¬ 
ries of that slender troo, which soom as if 
thoy would fain romind us of something 
cheerful ; and the measured boat of the 
threshor’s flail calls up the thought that in 
tho dry and falling ear lies so much nour¬ 
ishment and life.” 
